


Tight Blue Sweater

by qthelights



Category: West Wing
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-02-05
Updated: 2001-02-05
Packaged: 2017-10-30 15:36:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/333294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/qthelights/pseuds/qthelights
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>My first fandom and the purple prose that lurks in the darkness...</p>
    </blockquote>





	Tight Blue Sweater

**Author's Note:**

> My first fandom and the purple prose that lurks in the darkness...

Donna is wearing a blue sweater today.

It’s a very tight blue sweater.

She really shouldn’t be wearing a sweater like that at work. Even if it is a weekend and there’s hardly anyone here anymore.

It’s really quite tight and it’s making me want to do very bad things. Things that I should not be doing to my assistant.

And yet, strangely, I’d really rather she didn’t stop wearing it any time soon.

The thing is, this particular sweater, and I’ve seen her in lots of them, this one is quite…sculpting. Not that Donna needs sculpting. I’m just saying, this sweater emphasizes certain things.

Well, two things in particular actually.

“Josh?”

I look up to find Donna at the doorway, so absorbed in thinking about her that I didn’t even see her. Figures.

“Yeah?”

“What are you doing?”

“Thinking.”

“Ah,” she shuts the door and sits down in a chair.

Okay, so now I have an even better view of the sweater.

“What are you doing?” I ask, hoping she’s going to stay awhile.

“Nothing much, I finished the stuff on Williamson thing. You want to see it before I send it off?” She asks this as she leans back in the chair abruptly. I can’t help but notice the way things, well, move when she does that.

“Nah, that’s okay,” I reply thinking I don’t want her to go out of my sight for any reason.

“Josh?” Donna says, snapping me out of the little ‘sweater occupants’ trip I was beginning to take.

“Hmm…oh, sorry… things on my mind.”

“Try me.”

“Excuse me?” Alright, that was a little high pitched.

She rolls her eyes, “Tell me what’s on your mind Josh.”

Can’t I tell you what I want on me somewhere else?

Okay, I’m a very lucky person not to have just said that aloud.

“Uh, it’s nothing.”

We lapse into silence for a minute, Donna no doubt thinking of another way to ask me what I’m thinking about.

God that sweater is tight. What did she do? Super glue it onto her skin?

I hear her clear her throat and I look back up. She’s wearing a funny expression.

“Josh? Why are you looking at my breasts?”

Oh shit.

“Donna! How could you say such a…I was doing no such thing!”

“Yes you really were Josh, you were staring at my breasts.”

“Donna, I was not and will you please, for the love of god, stop saying that word in here!”

“Breasts?”

“Yes, Donna!”

“You’re embarrassed that I’m using the word ‘breasts’, Josh? Coming from a man who was openly staring at them just a moment ago I would think that you would be comfortable with it.”

“This is a place of…this is a professional work place Donna…were serious things are…”

Donna is just staring at me intently, “Uh huh.”

“I wasn’t looking at them!”

“’Them’ Josh?” She questions, still staring at me unwaveringly.

“Your breasts, Donna!”

“I thought we couldn’t use that word,” she smirks.

She is enjoying this all too much.

“I wasn’t staring at your breasts Donna! Why would I want to look at your breasts!” That last part, it was said a little louder than it probably should have been.

The look in Donna’s eyes changes. She looks sort of angry and sort of sad, and really, either way it goes – I’m screwed.

“Are you trying to tell me something about my breasts, Josh?” She asks, maintaining a cool air.

“No, no no! I’m not saying anything about them, Donna!”

“Evidently.”

“Wait, what I mean is that I didn’t mean to imply anything about them.”

“And what do you think that I thought you were implying?”

I hate when women do that. That tricky ‘I’m going to make you dig your own hole’ phrasing that only makes me mess up further.

Donna crosses her arms. That can only be a bad sign.

“I don’t think that you thought anything!” I declare, not knowing if that makes sense or not.

“There is nothing wrong with my breasts, Josh.” She states much too calmly.

“I know there isn’t Donna! You have beautiful breasts!”

Okay…the part where I, you know, said that, probably shouldn’t have happened.

Donna opens her mouth to rebut me, and then realising she doesn’t need to, closes it again.

“Uh I mean, that was, I shouldn’t have said that…” I backpedal.

Donna stands up abruptly, “You say I have beautiful breasts and then you attempt to take it back?”

“No!” I stand up and round the desk as fast as I can till I’m standing in front of her, “That isn’t what I meant, Donna.” I gently clasp her upper arms with my hands, trying to prevent her from making the hasty exit I’m sure is only a few openings of my mouth away.

She simply stares at me confused, but doesn’t pull away from my grasp so I continue.

“I was merely trying to retain a modicum of professionalism, you’ve been wandering around in that little sweater all day.” She starts to object and I cut her off, “and Donna, you do have beautiful, uh…you know, and I know this because I’ve been staring at you all day because of this sweater.”

Okay, did anyone else notice how girly I sounded just then?

“You really think that?”

“Donna. . .”

“There have been times Josh, where you say things to me, and then you say that you had no intention of doing such and such or meaning this or that.”

“ ‘Such and such and this or that’, Donna?” I mock.

“Josh…” She whines, and I smile at the tone.

“I meant it Donna, now can we, possibly, go back to running the country?”

“No, we can’t.”

“What? Why not?”

“We have to discuss the issue of you staring at me still.”

“Didn’t we just do that?”

“No, we simply established that you were doing it.”

“Donna…”

I really don’t want to get into this with her, it can only end badly if she makes me talk about that.

“Josh.”

“Donna, I’ve told you that you have a wonderful spectacular amazing, uh, chest, and that I was staring at it,” and now I seem to be almost touching her breasts because my hands have moved further in than her arms, “Isn’t that enough?”

“Not really, Josh,” she says, but her voice is all funny sounding.

If that sound in her voice is what I think it is then I’m in much more trouble than even I anticipated.

“Are you sure?” I ask, feeling the soft tickle of the wool from the sweater brush my palms ever so lightly.

“I think we need to discuss how you can stop staring at me. It’s not very professional Josh,” Donna says and then moves forward suddenly forcing her breasts into my hands.

How did we get to this point so suddenly? Groaning softly, I let my fingers brush against the curves.

“Donna, what I’m thinking now is not, it’s not very, uh, professional.”

“Coincidentally, Josh, what I’m thinking isn’t very professional either.”

“I’m not sure that we should be…”

“We definitely shouldn’t,” she interrupts, shaking her head slightly and watching my eyes intently.

“So we should really…” I begin, squeezing her breasts a little which causes her to sigh in the most soft beautiful way I’ve ever heard.

“We should really stop,” She answers, her hands coming up to rest on my chest.

“But we aren’t going to are we?” I ask, knowing the answer and groaning again as Donna’s fingers trace up my chest to a nipple.

“No, we aren’t,” Donna confirms pinching a nipple in her fingers as I do the same to her.

“We are so very terribly horribly bad,” I say, moving closer to her and feeling my erection push against her.

“Disgustingly immorally bad,” she adds and moves her lips up to mine.

Her lips melt into mine and the shock that goes rocketing through me when she thrusts her tongue into my mouth clinches the deal. This is going to happen.

I wrap my arms around her waist, hoisting her up onto the desk. Donna makes a little whimpering noise.

“What was that?” I tease, my breath coming out harsh and loud in the quiet room.

Donna looks up at me with the most annoyed and aroused expression I’ve ever seen and I have to laugh.

“I really don’t think, Josh,” she reasons, her fingers going to work on my shirt, “that you should be making fun of me at a time like this.”

Probably not. What’s amazing me though is that we’re going about this like there’s nothing out of the ordinary, purposefully ignoring the larger implications. But hey, if she’s game, I am.

“You make a fair point,” I breathe out before capturing her lips with mine again hungrily.

“Uh huh,” Donna answers a second later when we break, her fingers once more working on the remaining buttons.

She slides the shirt open and bends in to place a soft kiss on my chest. “My turn?”

“Definitely your turn, Donna,” I say and pull her tight blue sweater up, revealing pale skin beneath it.

After the skin, I get to her breasts, encased in a silky light blue bra. “You match.”

“Yes,” she answers as I pull the sweater over her head. “Like it?”

“Infinitely,” I reply before leaning down and gently capturing one hardened nipple, through the material, between my teeth. The moan that comes from deep within Donna’s throat causes me to bite down a little harder.

Letting go, I push gently between her breasts, urging her to lay back on the desk. I move the stapler in time too. I’m thinking a staple in the head isn’t conducive to love making.

Now when I mentioned my obsession with Donna’s now discarded blue sweater, I forgot to mention that she was also wearing a tight, just below the knee, gray skirt. This skirt emphasized another Donna part. Not only does she have a nicely defined chest, but she has a nicely defined ass too.

Perhaps I can see why this has gone where it has so fast.

“May I?” I ask, tugging at the hem of the aforementioned skirt.

“Josh, just do it now, whatever you want to do, do it now please.”

Okay she really shouldn’t have said that, a million images have just gone flying through my mind. But I must stick to the plan I had in mind first.

Before she can take the invitation back I hitch up her skirt, pushing it up till it gets stuck between her backside and the desk. Understanding the problem I’m now facing she arches up and I quickly slide the material up to her waist.

“They match too.”

“Yes they do, Josh.”

I notice that not only do they match, but they’re suspiciously wet too.

Getting down on my knees and leaning in, I run the tip of my nose up the centre of the silky material, pushing slightly against her.

“Ohh….”

“Like that too, Donna?”

“Less talking, more of *that*,” she whispers huskily and I laugh.

Hooking my thumbs through the waistband, I draw her panties down and over her knees, letting them drop down her lower legs that are dangling off the desk.

“But talking is what you and I do, Donna,” I reply, leaning in and tasting her wetness with the tip of my tongue.

“We were…oh… wrong, we shouldn’t talk. This is much better.” Donna pants out, her hips squirming up, inviting me.

“It is?” I tease, leaning in and dipping my tongue further into her, drawing it upwards.

Her head is thrown backwards on the desk and she’s trying to find something to clutch with her hands.

“Yes, yes it is,” she gasps as my tongue finds her clit and I smooth it flattened over her.

One of her hands finds the side edge of the desk and she grips onto it. Her other can’t reach the other side of the desk though and she ends up grabbing onto a pair of scissors.

“Uh, Donna?”

“Yeah?”

“Scissors?”

“Dangerous?” She questions, in the voice she uses when she knows the answer.

“With what I plan on doing to you? Yeah, quite possibly.”

“Okay,” she drops the scissors over the back of her head and they hit the floor with a thud.

I pull her closer by her hips and dip my head back in to continue, satisfied I’m not about to get stabbed in the head. Donna twists her free arm over her head and grabs the back edge of the table instead.

Feeling very much like a kid with a lollipop I start licking her in earnest, savoring the taste of her and the sounds she’s making. Going back to her clit every so often and teasing it mercifully with the tip of my tongue. Strangely, you don’t notice the muscles in your mouth until you use them repeatedly at this.

“Are you sure this is better than talking?” I whisper against her as her small movements begin to get more erratic.

“Yesssss…..” She gasps and I notice her knuckles are white from gripping the desk so hard.

“Because I don’t know, I quite like our banter,” I continue, moving in and sucking on her clit as hard as I can.

I’m really loving that strangled moaning sound she makes when I do that.

“Banter’s good,” she pants with a hitch in the middle.

I suck a little harder before saying, “Yeah, and we really are quite good at it.”

“Good, yes.. we’re good at it.”

“World class banter,” I grin and nibble softly at her clit with my teeth.

“Yes, Josh,” she moans as I dip my tongue back down and into her quickly.

“I am da man at bantering,” I murmur and thrust my tongue in and out of her a few times.

“Joshh…”

“Yes, Donna?” I move my tongue back to her clit.

“Jossshhh….” She cries out softly again, this time much more hurriedly.

“Good,” I answer and rub her clit with my tongue as hard as I can and she pushes up hard against me as she comes.

Well that was rather satisfying. I am so da man. Muffins and bagels people. It is muffins and bagels time.

Leaning over her and the desk I scoop her back into my arms and bring her back to a sitting position. For some reason, I’m reminded of an airplane flight, bringing the chair upright after the ride.

Only this ride is just beginning.

Donna leans forward into me as she tries to get her breathing in control. Fine with me. Now those breasts of hers are pressed up against my chest.

“I think we’ve found something else we’re world class at,” I smirk.

She smirks back and comments, “Well we’ve found something you’re world class at anyway.”

“True, how about we find out if we’re both good at something then?”

In answer to this Donna grins and spreads her legs wider pulling me in tight. Oh my.

“Lose the jeans, Josh.”

“They’re gone,” I remark and frantically undo button and zip, sliding them down to the floor.

Donna gives another of those little whimpering sounds and I look up to find her looking down.

“You know, Donna,” I remark, moving forward until my erection is sliding against her abdomen, “You really don’t need to inflate my ego any more than it is.”

She looks back up and tries to snort, only it comes out little more than a whimper again. “I’m not trying to. Seems you can do a lot of inflating on your own.”

Okay my ego and my well, other ‘ego’, are inflating more. Didn’t think that was possible. Yeah . . . in both cases.

I pull her hips forward, moving her just a little bit off the table.

“Wanna stroke my ego?” I say with a suitably sleazy grin.

“Joshua,” she groans and rolls her eyes.

“Yes, Donna?” I ask innocently.

“Stop with the banter, start with something else.”

“So impatient, Donnatella,” I tease. Whatever response she had formulated dies on her lips as I rub the tip of myself against her wet opening.

“Pill?” I ask and she looks at me wonderingly a second before understanding.

“Oh, yeah, that’s fine…everything else is fine too.”

I push into her about a centimeter and groan at how much I want to just thrust in and relieve this pressure. “Me to, with the everything else...s’all fine.”

“Okay, good then.”

“Very good,” I groan and then begin sliding up into her.

“Ohh, that’s, amazing,” she murmurs and moves her arms up around my neck, pulling herself close.

I have to agree. She feels wonderful. And my ego is going to deflate pretty soon this feels so good. If you get what I mean.

“Yeah, it is,” I finally respond, pulling out and thrusting back up into her with more force.

Donna clings to me and wraps her legs up around my back. But there’s something wrong with this scenario. Ah…

“Donna lean back a sec,”

She does so and I quickly unsnap her bra and pull it forward over her arms.

“Kay, everything’s good now,” I tell her, and pull her back into me, reveling in the feel of her soft breasts against my chest.

“Mmm,” she murmurs in agreement and I begin moving in and out of her below again.

“I think we’re on track to this being world class,” I groan out, my thrusts becoming harder and deeper.

“Oh yeah,” She confirms, her nipples rubbing against my chest as we slide against each other.

“I don’t think we’re going to be this good for too long though, Donna.”

Understanding she replies, “That’s okay, I’m quite happy as it is.”

Me being, well, me, I want to make her even happier and I thread a hand between us and down between her legs. Donna moans and presses into my thumb as best she can as I continue to plunge into her.

“Joshh…” she whispers harshly next to my ear.

“Me too…” I reply and begin to pound into her faster and faster.

“Oh, oh…Josh, oh,” She moans out and I feel her clenching around me in orgasm.

“I agree,” I gasp out and spill myself into her, both of us clinging hard to the other.

Seconds go by and we don’t move. She’s breathing heavily and our hot damp bodies are sticking to each other.

“World class,” she manages finally, resting her head against my shoulder.

I should probably be worried about the fact that I’m standing here, pants around my ankles, shirt half off, softening erection buried in my completely naked assistant sitting on my desk. I think that maybe, I should have worried about this a little earlier though. Oh well.

Lifting Donna off the desk, I grab a couple of tissues and try not to make too much mess as I slip out of her. Sitting down in one of the visitor’s chair, I pull her down into my lap and we sit in comfortable silence for a few minutes.

Yeah, we do this naked.

I just don’t want to stop feeling her skin against me though. That’s a good excuse right?

Donna is nuzzling against me in the way that some women do after sex. I like those women, just for the record. Sex is about much more than the actual sex part. Well, you know what I mean.

“So, I’m thinking I should wear that blue sweater more often,” she says momentarily, kissing the side of my neck lightly.

“I’m thinking you shouldn’t wear it at work again,” I reply languidly.

“I shouldn’t?” She questions, kissing my ear this time.

“Well, look what happened this time, imagine what could happen another time.”

“I am,” she says with an evilly erotic tone.

She’s going to inflate the ego again if she’s not careful.

I absently play with one of her nipples, “As tempting as that is, Donna, I don’t think we’d be so lucky as to not get caught if we did this more than once.”

“Probably not,” she agrees, pushing her breast slightly into my hand.

“But you can wear that sweater all the time away from work if you like.”

“All the time?” She laughs and I gently cup her breast, feeling the weight in my palm.

“Well, most of the time maybe.”

“Sounds good to me,” she says and sighs as I run my hand over her skin.

“But you know, when it comes down to it, I’m really pretty glad that you wore that sweater today.”

“Mmm, me too. Can I wear the matching bra and panties at work though?”

“Sure,” I laugh and lean in to kiss her shoulder.

“That won’t make you want to do this too?”

“Well not if I can’t see them probably not.”

“What if I tell you I’m wearing them?”

“If you’re going to tell me then you can’t wear them.”

She pouts, “Why should you get to choose what I wear anyway?”

“I’m your boss,” I grin.

“No you aren’t,” She replies firmly.

“Well, maybe not in the conventional sense, no,” I agree, wondering how I lost so much power in this relationship. “But technically I am.”

“We should probably get dressed,” she says, ignoring the boss comment entirely.

“Yeah, probably,” I return and we get up to do so.

As she’s heading out the door, looking impeccably neat again, she turns and looks at me intently.

“Yes?”

“I was just thinking,”

“What?”

“You never said anything about not being allowed to wear the tight pink sweater.”

And with that, she grins and flounces out the door.


End file.
